Title: A Jellie Christmas (Or Eve if you want to be picky) Part OneCharacters/Pairings: Morgan, Chuck, Casey/Ellie.Genre: Humour, romance Rating: Its fine. No bad language. Summary:It's Christmas Eve, Morgan is in a pickle and he needs the help of only one man. John Casey. He doesn't want to, but Ellie could come to his rescue!

AN: This story was supposed to have been posted and finished by Christmas. As I worked over the holidays I never got the chance to. But ta-da! Also, big thanks to kuryakingirl for being a beta to this. Parts 2, 3 and 4 will follow eventually. Please enjoy

“Morgan…one word. I can give you one word. No!”

“But, Chuck! We can’t do this without him! It will be the end of the world as we know it if he doesn’t come to our rescue!”

Chuck shook his head as he loaded up his bag. It was a very bad idea on Morgan’s part. The little bearded member of Team Bartowski sighed and then slapped in Chuck’s palm, the pouch of tranq darts. He helped his friend pack for the new spy mission, not saying a word, but nervously biting at his nails as the whole situation finally became clear. He was going to die.

“We have no choice…” he murmured. “He is our last hope.”

While Chuck appreciated the slight Star Wars quote there, he didn’t feel that it fit the situation. Morgan was in a pickle for sure, but that didn’t mean that Chuck was going to let his best friend dig his own grave.

“Casey is having a couple personal days off.” Chuck said as he shucked on his shoulder holster. Morgan helped him and then passed him the weapons he would be using for his mission. “He’s not going to be pleased if you come to him with this. He’s been through a lot from the last mission and he deserves it. We can let him take it easy, let him watch his war films or do whatever it is that Casey actually does on his days off.”

“But we’ve got no one else!”

“Look….” Chuck sighed and clenched a friendly hand on Morgan’s shoulder. He looked down at his friend, his Q--his Alfred--and smiled widely and sincerely. “We don’t need to go running to John Casey every time something goes wrong.”

“But that’s what you told me to do. ‘In times of great peril and danger….go get John Casey.’ Your own words, pal. ”

Chuck paused for thought, or rather a show of disbelieving thought, as again his friend got a little confused.

“Er…this is not one of those times.”

“I think you’ll find it is.”

“No it isn’t.”

“Er…Chuck! I think you’ll find it is! Can’t you see how many people will be affected by this?! How many lives this could destroy?! We need him! The world NEEDS Colonel John Casey! We’re doomed and condemned to an eternity of hell and misery if we don’t get his help.”

“That’s exaggerating things a little…isn’t it?” Chuck could see the near panic look on Morgan’s face.

“Chuck Bartowski! I can’t believe you are going against me on this! I’m not exaggerating!” Morgan scowled.

“Little buddy, I know how you feel, really I do, but this isn’t that much of a deal. Right now, I would consider sitting back and relaxing a little.”

Morgan Grimes didn’t listen. He was desperate and when there were no more levels of crap and hell to go through, when hope was diminishing, he knew of no other person (other than Chuck) who could lift them all back into the light.

Chuck watched as his friend rushed out of the door and towards his doom. The spy picked up his phone and sent a warning text to the Colonel, just to prepare him. Satisfied that he did all he could, Chuck picked up the last item to go into his bag. Sarah would be here in a moment and Chuck had to make sure he had everything.

That included his packed lunch.

0000000000000

Strange.

There was no reply. Morgan knew he had to be in, for the Crown Vic was parked in its usual spot and it was still too early for him to have gone somewhere, unless he had gone for a run? Morgan was aware that Casey often got up at the devil hours of the morning to go for a run by the beach. The six foot four Marine could have been there now, but his ‘spidey sense’ told Morgan this wasn’t so. Well…the sandy trainers left by Casey’s door told him as well.

So where could he be?!

Casey kept himself to himself, only interacting with the neighbours unless he really had to. Recently Alex had helped him out of his shell a little, but apart from Chuck there wasn’t anyone else in the complex that Casey even wanted to get to know. With the exception of one.

Miss Eleanor Faye Bartowski.

She would know where he was. Wouldn’t she?

Morgan ran up to Ellie’s apartment and his eagerness died a little when he came face to face with the nicely decorated front door. This year was going to be tough on Ellie, but that wasn’t going to stop her from going ahead with the traditional feast she loved to concoct. Everyone was invited to tonight’s Christmas eve party, so that naturally meant John Casey as well. Morgan knocked on the wood and eventually the door opened.

Instead of a slightly sombre and saddened Ellie Bartowski looking back at him, there was dazzling sunshine. Her smile was radiant and joyful, her eyes sparkled like diamonds and her gorgeous skin was flushed with a wash of pinkish red. Morgan was stopped dead in his tracks.

It was not even 8am in the morning. Ellie was dressed in short pyjama shorts which lengthened considerably her slender long legs, and a tank top that was clinging so tightly to her form that, Morgan couldn’t help but stare at her—gulp—straining breasts. Her long brown hair was loose around her shoulders, sweat soaked at her brow and Morgan felt like he had died, gone to heaven and God’s most revered angel had come to escort him in. However, what made him feel even better than going to heaven, was the strong smell of roasted coffee and the smell of freshly baked croissants, melted butter and cinnamon. She had been cooking pastries again!!

Ellie and breakfast were the most seductive and alluring things ever to exist in the mornings.

Gone were Ellie’s full length unflattering pyjamas, dressing gown and fuzzy slippers that she normally sported in the morning these past months, now there was lots of flesh, sweet smiles and the smell of her cooking. She was a goddess before Morgan and he couldn’t help but salivate.

“Good morning, Morgan.” Ellie said, firmly and loudly, snapping him out of his daze. Morgan felt the dribble in his beard and quickly swiped it away with the back of his head. Ellie scowled a little but the glorious smile returned. “How can I help you?”

The visage of one of the most perfect women known to exist was difficult to ignore, yet Morgan managed to pull himself together and get down to business.

“El, we have a problem. I mean…super big and I was wondering if you know where--?”

Morgan’s voice trailed into nothing when, behind Miss Bartowski, he was startled beyond the ability to breathe, to see John Casey. The Colonel, dressed in light khakis and a t-shirt that was just about covering that wide chest of his, glared at him with angry eyes of blue. His hair was wet and he held in one hand a mug of the brewed coffee. On the very large white ceramic mug, along the top and bottom were measuring lines of a ruler and in the middle, the words “Size Matters” were printed in black in the middle.

Morgan felt even smaller as he cleared his throat and wiped his sweaty hands on his pants.

“NO!” Morgan never even got to ask. “I know what you’re going to ask me, Grimes, and the answer is no! General Beckman has given me the first two days off in six months and I plan on enjoying them. “

“You have personal days off and you’re….you’re spending them with Ellie?” asked Morgan, his voice gasping between words as his mind tried to fathom what the man was doing there so early in the morning. “It’s…wha…erm….? You don’t want more time with Alex?”

His voice croaked into nothing when he thought his eye glimpsed Casey’s hand trailing round Ellie’s waist, but after a couple of blinks, Casey was standing in front of her with his arms folded across his chest.

“This is her first Christmas since Devon left.” He said softly. “This party is going ahead tonight, so I thought I would help her. Do you have a problem with that?”

Ellie cupped her hand over her mouth, but the attempt to try and hide that smile and keep in the sniggering snort of laughter didn’t work. Morgan knew Casey was teasing…kind of. Maybe?

“No!” Morgan’s voice squeaked, then deepened to normal. “No. Not at all. I think it’s a lovely thing you’re doing, John. Are you making those mini-quiches again? You gotta make the mini-quiches again….Ellie...you know how scrumptious those mini quiches of his are, rii-ight?!”

“They’re very tasty.” Ellie smirked and Morgan couldn’t help but think there was something more to her answer as her eyes widened and it provoked Casey to suddenly clear his throat and…was he blushing?!

“John!” Ellie teasingly slapped the back of Casey’s arm. The peculiar purr/growl which responded back to her was low, but Morgan picked up on it. He didn’t miss the flashing glint of—amusement--arousal—in his eyes either. “There’s no need to be mean to him.”

“Help us, please!” Morgan blurted out, nearly dropping to his knees to grovel but not when he saw Casey’s stare. “We can’t do this without you!”

“No! I told you and Chuck has told you….no.” The snarl that followed, clearly told Morgan how much trouble and world of pain he would be in if he persisted with this matter.

However he persisted and he appealed to the one other person—other than Casey’s daughter—who he couldn’t say no to.

“Ellie? Tell him to help us. It’s vital! Lives are at stake!”

There was already the look of hopelessness in the older man’s eyes when he turned to face Ellie. She was grinning even more and Morgan was quite taken back when a saddened almost pleading expression crossed Casey’s face. It was the Casey look that happened every time he never got to use the Buy More CIA defence guns; it was the look he had when he was told he couldn’t go to WepCon; it was the look he gave when Beckman told him he couldn’t use “Vera” on the last mission.

“Ellie?” Was he begging with her? Pleading?

“John…it’s Christmas eve.” She said, her fingers lightly caressing at the muscled forearm as it clenched in the fold. Her voice took upon a tone that confused most, if not all men. Did Ellie mean that he didn’t have to do this and he should stay with her? But did she also mean that she would be very disappointed if he didn’t try? Bah humbug?

“Huh?” both men said at the same time. There was that twinkle of mischief in Ellie’s eye and Morgan was lost as to what was going on.

“I’m…I’m not comfortable with this.” Casey whispered to her, edging closer to Ellie. The older man unfolded his arms and one of his hands rested over hers, stroking at her knuckles.

Morgan blinked.

This is new…Casey and Ellie? When did this happen?! How? Huh?! Wha? Have to keep a close eye on how this progresses! Get the facts! Oh…does Chuck know about it?! Hell…this is HUGE!

At this precise moment, the little signals and touching between his best friend’s sister and his “possible” future father-in-law, wasn’t paramount. Casey needed to help and it looked as if Ellie was going to convince him to stay with her. Morgan caught on. Ellie was swaying Casey without actually telling him what to do! She was still allowing him to make the decision…but oh it was so crafty.

Morgan clasped his hands together and steepled two fingers against his lips, as Casey contemplated his response. He wasn’t going to do it, because both of them knew that you never upset Ellie Bartowski. Ever.

Then another plan to clinch the deal popped into Morgan’s head.

“You know…helping to save these innocent lives, Alex will love you more! You will be the best dad ever!”

Ellie smiled and bobbed her head gently towards the little bearded man, appreciating a move well played. The slight gesture normally wouldn’t have escaped Casey, but in his moment of pondering, as he could only imagine Alex’s disappointment, he missed it.

Morgan let out a whoop of joy and was about to fling himself into the giant man’s bulk but instead he got a hand of the Colonel right in the face and was shoved back. A single finger that could surely kill him, pointed at his face.

“I said I’ll agree to this suicidal plan of yours Grimes, doesn’t mean you get to hug me, now or ever!”

“Of course, yeah, sure, Casey.” Morgan grinned and then rubbed his hands together. “You are the right man for this job! You’ve really saved my bacon and I won’t forget this, big guy.”

“I hopefully will.”

Casey drained the coffee from his mug and winced before handing the mug to Ellie. Morgan could have sworn that the man looked scared before he adopted an apologetic but hopeful and genuine expression for the woman he had obviously shared breakfast with.

“I’m sorry I won’t be able to help you with the party preparations, Ellie. I want to help you.” There was a small sound of a light hearted laugh that went along with the handsome smile he flashed at her. “But…I…er….”

“Don’t worry,” Ellie said, her voice dropping down to an understanding whisper and her fingers lightly hovering over his hand. “I understand, but that doesn’t mean I’ll let you off on not having a costume for tonight! Its fancy dress, everyone has to have one.”

The upset whine was brief, as was the distressed pout on his face (Morgan had only seen that face once when the Vic was involved in an accident.) but because he knew there was no arguing with that point, his face softened somewhat and he allowed a tiny smile to form on his lips.

Morgan watched as Casey and Ellie then tried to be anything but intimate in front of him. The signs were there, the gentle smiles, the nervous eye contact, the blush on Ellie’s skin. It had been a year since Devon left and the Lady Bartowski had coped well—or rather barely--with the split, but what was this that Morgan had discovered? Was it friendly neighbours being friends over breakfast?

There was flirting going on. Casey was definitely putting on the charm (which was interesting and fascinating to see) but Morgan understood why any red-blooded man would flirt with a beautiful creature like Ellie. Yet, why was Ellie so obviously flirting back at him?

He had to find out. Already his mind was taking notes, yet Morgan had to find out his own feelings on this subject. For however Morgan felt about it, his bestest bud in all-the world, was going to feel it ten times more. Chuck could also take it really badly.

“See you later then, Ellie.” Morgan cheerfully chirped as a rather awkward silence settled on the three. Ellie and Casey broke out of their little moment and when Casey stepped out into the courtyard, she smiled warmly and gave Morgan a crafty smirk.

“Take care, won’t you?” she said, innocently.

“Sure, we will. Now we have this man on the front lines…John will be back in no time to help you!”

“I’m sure he will.”

Casey returned Ellie’s cheery goodbye, albeit with a tiny hint of shyness coming across but when the door closed, the smile dropped from his face. Morgan thought that a large storm cloud had descended upon Echo Park, or rather just around the giant. A large fist grabbed hold of Morgan’s shirt, dragged him to the shadows of the archway and pushed him up against the wall.

“Don’t you ever ask me to do this again,” He said, growling ferociously. “I don’t like being used, especially when it’s my day off.”

“What have you got against this?!” Morgan gasped back, his feet struggling to find ground. “I thought you like missions!”

“This is not a mission! This is you encroaching on my peace.”

“Sure it’s a mission! You get to wear a disguise…don’t ya?! This is an excellent plan Casey! You’ve got nothing to worry about! Alex will love you more when she sees this side of you! I guarantee it!”

I love this. I loved how you wrote Morgan's shock at seeing the lovely Ellie in her short-shorts and her "slight pink flush" (hmmm I wonder what they were doing exactly.....) So now it's on to pt. 2. Again, much love for this story! :)